


One Night More

by Churbooseanon



Series: One Night And Then Some [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4072024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When North Dakota comes back from a long job he finds that something is different with his lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night More

**Author's Note:**

> A long delayed sequel finally comes to fruition.

“Welcome back.”

He runs into Wash before he even manages to get back to the locker room to get out of his armor. Part of him is eager for his boyfriend’s company. The rest of him is weary. A two day mission is never the best thing to get sent on, especially when his partner for the thing had been Maine. Strange how North didn’t realize how much the random conversations his squadmates, like South and York, got into on deployments annoyed him up until the moment that there was none to be had. Not that he doesn’t enjoy his work with Maine. With Maine, as with Carolina, North knows he’s dealing with a true professional, and both of them find extraneous conversation to be an annoyance.

Worse, sort of like sacrilege. 

It makes North long for the chatter his sister managed all while being completely undetected on a mission and easily showcasing why she merited the third position on these new ‘leaderboards.’ 

Long story short, North is just so happy to have his boyfriend there, leaning against a locker as North shuffles in, his whole body aching from nearly thirty-six hours of laying in the same damn position. There are a lot of things that Wash seems comparatively ‘novice’ at, but the mastery of his hands and his back and shoulder rubs are almost without par. The closest North has ever felt is from his twin, and South only extends the magic of her fingers when she’s very, VERY drunk. 

Still, there is something about the smile Wash has on his lips that is just a bit off. Something about how wide that seems far from genuine, and when it’s paired with Wash’s voice, the high level of cheer, North finds himself wondering. More than wondering. But he smiles back anyway, and lets his affection pour into his voice. 

“It felt like I was gone forever.”

* * * * * *

“I’d say there is a bit of a difference between two days and forever.”

Wash makes sure his voice is teasing as he moves forward to meet North. When North’s helmet is off he has to agree with the statement, though. There are bags under North’s eyes that Wash only ever gets to see there when the Director sent him out on one of those ‘sleep is for recruits’ missions. Those Wash hates, because he hates knowing that North was putting life and limb at risk to lay down in cover for days in hopes of things going just right. Last time someone had spotted North early and the scar their sighting had left still marks North’s chest. 

His hand moves of its own accord to lay over the place where he knows the scar rests. When he looks up at the taller man he can see the fondness in his partner’s eyes, and the relief of his presence. If only Wash could feel the same relief. Part of him can still feel York’s hands on him the night before last. North hadn’t even been halfway through his mission before Wash’s sworn fidelity had failed. Worse, it had never truly been there with all he’d allowed York to do before. 

All in the name of a single night. 

But a damn good night. 

There is no question, no need to ask. With North this tired Wash moves without prompting, his fingers moving over clasps and seals so that he can help North get the armor off faster. North will rest easier with all the weight off his body. Power armor or not, long enough in the hard embrace that kept them alive makes you feel doubled over. The weight of the whole universe on your shoulders. Of course, humanity almost does rest on their shoulders if this goes right. For now, though, Wash doesn’t want anything resting on North’s but the soothing, pounding heat of the showers the slack military regs on the MOI allows them. 

“Every moment I can’t see you stretches out into it’s own eternity.”

* * * * * *

“Come on, it can’t be that bad, can it?” 

Wash’s laughter is strained, his hands hesitate over the armor on North’s arms. No, not hesitate. Hesitation is momentary, and North remembers what Wash is normally like when they’re apart for so long. On a normal day Wash’s hands would be sliding over any piece of his undersuit that Wash can get to. Touches that smooth over his tired skin under the black as pieces of armor get thrown toward the reclamation bin. They don’t touch and press and prod, trying to coax more energy into North. 

Normally it means that the two of them end up in the shower together, hot water all over their skin as North touches and explores him. Slowly reacquaints himself with his lover before they withdraw to one of their rooms. A whole evening of slow, gentle love making, and in the end they would lay into their bed together, whispering their secrets. 

All North can do is reach down to catch Wash’s hands in his own. Their eyes meet for a moment, and there is something there that North is almost scared of. Caution, nervousness, those are things Wash has never had before for North. Of course there is more to it than just nerves. Thing is? North doesn’t think Wash gives him credit. Being a sniper means it’s important to know how to read people. To know if a target is going to duck left or right. Whether their flinching is because they heard something or have spotted him and are trying not to give it away, or because they’re being yelled at. Sniping is as much skill as observation, and North has learned to read people enough to know that what he’s seeing now isn’t a good sign. 

And from Wash? Open, gentle, sweet Wash? This sense that there is a secret between them almost cuts North to the quick. 

“Wash… what’s going on?”

* * * * * *

“I’m greeting my boyfriend as he returns from a long mission.”

It’s hard to look North in the eyes. They aren’t the warm gray he’d spent so long gazing into as he rode York late into the night, desperate to slake his thirst for the team infiltrator. They promised each other it would never happen again. One night. It was never supposed to come up again. North is never going to find out. And yet here he is, trying so hard to look at the other man in the eyes. If he fails that contact he knows it’s over. So Wash looks up and… 

There is disappointment in his lover’s eyes. 

Wash has to jerk his hands back. There is a pain in North’s pale blue gaze. Pain that burns Wash deep down. In this moment he knows it doesn’t matter what he says, because something about him will give it away. No, he’s already given it away from the pain. Wash turns away, walks away, has to… 

He wraps his arms around himself. Truth be told he doesn’t know what would be worse. If North wouldn’t reach out or if he did. 

Not that he gets a chance to decide. Within seconds there are large, strong arms around him. He’s been pulled back against a stronger chest, and the backs of his legs whack into the armor still on North’s. Normally this would be when they’d be touching. Kissing. Exploring with the dedicated pace they always manage. Instead he finds himself trapped in the strong cords of North’s arms. 

This is it. This is the end of it. And with it done, Wash doesn’t know what to do. He can’t turn to York. He can’t ask. Can’t turn to the way he lost the warm, sweet, and gentle love of a man he apparently didn’t deserve. Could never deserve. Will never deserve. 

“Tell me what happened while I was gone.”

* * * * * *

“I’m so sorry, I just…”

He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. North knows how that sentence is supposed to end from the way that Wash shakes in his arms. The problem is that he doesn’t actually know how to deal with this. How is he supposed to make Wash understand that he’s forgiven? That curiosity, that desire, isn’t a sin? They never swore to be exclusive. Never promised that it’s them and only them.

Where along the lines had he managed to make Wash think he was so… petty? If Wash was done with him, is done with him, then he’s done. They’re done. For now his first task has to be making his friend feel comfortable. Feel relaxed. Feel at ease. He has to make this better first and foremost. 

So his arms wrap around Wash, hold him close and tight. Slowly he rains kisses down in his partner’s hair. Kiss after kiss, light around the edges of his brow. Light kisses, gentle kisses, those are always the things that soothes him. Relaxes him. It takes time, but he can feel the smaller man melting in his arms. The tension seeping out of his shoulders, the weight of the smaller man slowly pressing back against him, and most of all, the pleased little sigh that escapes his lips. 

Even then it’s not enough. Can’t be enough. He whispers nonsense words into his partner’s ears, nuzzles him, laces their fingers together over Wash’s stomach. Together, his fingers say as they squeeze. Together, and I will be here for you no matter what decisions you make. I will always be here, always be your strength. 

The thing is, strength isn’t easy to be. So many years North has had to be a pillar. For himself. For South. For what remains of their family. And now for Wash. It’s a terrible burden, but he will bear it. 

“Don’t worry about that, no matter what it is I’ll be at your side.”

* * * * * *

“I was with York, just the one night.”

And it was, Wash swears that. If North can forgive him… 

He squirms a bit and the arms around him loosen. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Enough for Wash to turn around and pull his hands free and wrap his arms around North. Quietly his head comes down to rest against North’s chest, resting carefully against it. Even through the heat conserving material of the undersuit Wash can feel his warmth. His hands behind North’s back stray, his fingers trace lines the suit clings to with no room for privacy or decency. There is strength here if he’ll let himself have it. 

More kisses rain down on his head and part of Wash wants to sob at the simple pleasure of it all. This is what North is. Sweet, gentle, and insanely supportive whether he deserves it or not. Maybe not. Except here he is, having it anyway. He can feel the fingers come up and stroke through his hair, and Wash wants to laugh. Just like this he feels like he’s North’s lover again, even if he isn’t sure what they are. And what they are is a pair of men who work together, fight together, and love each other. 

As his eyes close he hears it. A humming slow in North’s chest, rumbling up as they start to sway. Moments like this are his favorites. When things are simple and they are just together. Moving in a little shuffling dance that is theirs and only theirs. This is one of their perfect moments. A low rumbling and a slow dance and a perfect moment where they are the only things in existence.

No moment could ever be better than this. Will ever be better than this. Just them and the limitless potential of an endless moment where he feels like he can fly. 

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be one night… if he’s willing to share.”

* * * * * *

“Share?”

North watches as Wash jerks back in shock, looking up and staring. The confusion, the joy, the hope in his eyes is definitely worth the offer. 

Especially if he means it. 

“Share,” North repeats, leaning down to kiss Wash lightly. “If we can all learn to share.”

The shiver that runs down Wash’s spine is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. And he can’t help but grin. 

York is going to love this.


End file.
